Together Again
by Aini NuFire
Summary: In their search for Lucifer, Castiel and Crowley stumble upon a monster hunting both humans and demons. As if working with the King of Hell wasn't irksome enough, now they have to team up against a wicked hag who has a few pointed tricks up her sleeve.


**A/N: For Snarry4life, who wanted Cas and Crowley on a hunt together. Takes place in season 12 when they had teamed up to track down Lucifer.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. If I did, there'd be more buddy comedy. *g* Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading! ^_^**

* * *

"Together Again"

Castiel wondered how it was always his misfortune to end up working side by side with Crowley. Perhaps it was karma for their first partnership hunting for Purgatory together. They'd been enemies after that fiasco, and then…Castiel wasn't sure when that had changed, actually. All he knew was that they had teamed up yet again, this time to track down Lucifer and find a way to put him back in the Cage.

It was a beneficial arrangement, as much as Castiel was loathe to admit. Stopping Lucifer was his responsibility, but in truth, it wasn't a task he could realistically take on himself. He refused to burden Sam and Dean with it, however. They had enough to focus on with their newly-resurrected mother, and besides, this was Castiel's mess to clean up, not theirs.

But Crowley was equally motivated to bring Lucifer down, and Castiel didn't mind the demon putting himself at risk. And having the King of Hell as backup against the Devil wasn't such a bad thing.

If only the demon would just stop _talking_.

They'd been on the road for a week now, and the entire time Crowley had kept up a mostly one-sided conversation, going on about how he was going to exact his revenge on Lucifer, and how dare the archaic Devil come in and try to steal his throne, how dare he chain Crowley up like a dog and humiliate him in front of his subjects. There was quite a bit of ranting over that.

Normally, Crowley never would have breathed a word of such demeaning degradation to anyone, too proud to admit that he'd been cowed by Lucifer. But given that Castiel had been present for it, in a manner of speaking, Crowley was probably taking advantage of the opportunity to vent. It wasn't as though Castiel hadn't been subjected to equal torment, albeit not publicly. Crowley likely knew this, which seemed to make him comfortable airing his grievances to Castiel, who was not someone the demon had to keep up appearances in front of. But it irked the angel that he would have this in common with the King of Hell.

The sound of a cell phone ringing blissfully interrupted Crowley's latest tirade, and the demon reached into his suit jacket to answer it.

"Yes?"

Castiel kept his eyes on the road, though he was able to hear the voice on the other end of the line clearly enough.

" _We've lost another one, boss._ "

"I see. Where?"

" _Braxton, Virginia._ "

Crowley made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. "Two towns up from the last one."

" _Yes, sir. What- what would you like us to do?_ "

"Nothing. Just keep me informed if any more turn up." He disconnected the call and tucked his phone back into his suit jacket. "Braxton, Virginia."

"I heard," Castiel said gruffly. They were already heading that way, following a trail of dead demons that had been turning up along the Atlantic coast. There was a chance it was Lucifer, if he'd finally made his way back up from the bottom of the ocean Rowena had banished him to. And even though the Devil had retaken control of Hell during his time using Castiel as a vessel and there were many demons still loyal to him, it wasn't as though Lucifer thought very highly of his demonic subjects. Castiel couldn't figure why he would be killing these, except that some were allied with Crowley. Or perhaps he was killing them in order to siphon off some energy, given that his latest vessel was currently burning out.

Either way, Castiel and Crowley had nothing else to go on at the moment, and so they were chasing what may very well be a dead end lead or just a series of demons falling prey to hunters.

They arrived in the town of Braxton, Virginia within the hour, and immediately drove to the crime scene, which was still active with police investigators. Castiel parked his truck behind the police tape and got out, reaching for his fake FBI badge. Crowley followed.

"Agents Beyonce and Zee," Castiel told the uniformed officer stationed at the perimeter.

The man quirked a weird look at him. Why was he always getting the same reaction whenever he introduced himself and Crowley? He always made sure to hold the badge right side up, and spoke with confidence and authority, just as he'd seen Sam and Dean do. What was he missing?

"We need to speak with the lead detective," Castiel continued.

The officer eyed them both skeptically, but nevertheless let them pass. Castiel found that the lower ranking officials didn't ask too many questions.

Cameras were clicking and whirring around the scene of a body sprawled in the middle of an alleyway. The eyes were wide open and staring vacantly into space. A quick once-over showed no sign of obvious trauma, just like the others. Only the distinct hint of sulfur lingering in the air revealed there had been a demonic presence.

The lead detective was a woman in a suit, scritching notes in a memo pad. She looked up sharply at Castiel and Crowley's intrusion on her crime scene.

"Hello," Castiel greeted, attempting to get the first meeting off to a friendly start. "I'm Agent Beyonce, this is my colleague Agent Zee."

Again, there was that sharp furrowing of the brow.

"Is that so?"

"Yes," Castiel replied. "We've been tracking a series of murders up the coast, and this one fits the MO. What can you tell us?"

The detective eyed them shrewdly. "Who says this was a murder?"

"Well, uh," Castiel floundered.

"Bodies typically don't just show up in alleys having died from natural causes," Crowley spoke up. "And as my colleague said, we've been tracking a series of these. So, what can you tell us?"

The detective crossed her arms. "Nothing much. Guy was found by the garbage man. Been dead about six hours, but no signs of physical trauma. Until the coroner does an autopsy, we won't know if he was attacked or simply dropped dead of an aneurysm."

"Any witnesses?" Castiel asked. "Or surveillance?" He'd learned the value of checking security feeds from Sam.

"No-pe," the detective replied, enunciating the last syllable. "You guys have a suspect?"

"Not at this time," Crowley replied coolly. "Do give us a ring if you find something." He then looked at Castiel and cocked his head toward the detective. Castiel refrained from rolling his eyes, and pulled out his card to give the woman.

"Thank you," he said.

"Mhm-hm," she returned, taking the business card with a reluctant air.

Castiel and Crowley made their way out of the crime scene.

"Great," Castiel muttered. "We're no closer to finding Lucifer."

"Maybe, maybe not," Crowley responded, attention focused on something across the street. He started heading that way without a word. Castiel shook his head and grudgingly followed.

Crowley was approaching a homeless man who was peeking out from the alley across the street and watching the crime scene with quite a bit of interest. His eyes widened when he realized he'd been spotted, and was about to turn away, but Crowley merely teleported the short distance to appear behind him. The man jolted, staggering backward against the wall.

"How did you…?" he stammered as Castiel joined them.

"Never mind that," Crowley said. "You seem to be a rather observant fellow. Did you witness something last night in that alley over there?"

The man flicked a nervous gaze across the street, then back to Crowley. His teeth practically clacked together as he spluttered, "N-no."

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "You're lying."

"Really?" Crowley mused. "Do tell."

The poor man was obviously terrified, but there was little Castiel could do to reassure him. He wished he had some food on his person he could give the man; Castiel remembered what it was like to be homeless and hungry. But he didn't have anything, not even cash, as he'd become accustomed to using one of the Winchesters' fake credit cards Sam had given him when it was clear that he'd be permanently grounded without his wings.

"Please," Castiel said, softening his tone. "It's important. Did you see what happened to the man in the alley?"

The guy's throat bobbed, but he gave a jerky nod. "He was with an old woman. She looked homeless, but I haven't seen her around before."

Castiel furrowed his brow. "What makes you think she was homeless?"

He shrugged. "Her clothes were dirty. Rags, really."

"And was the man threatening her?"

"What? No. They were just talking. Until, well…"

"What?" Castiel prompted.

"I don't know. She- she did something. This black smoke came gushing out of the guy's mouth, and then he collapsed."

Castiel frowned. "Are you sure she did something, though? Perhaps she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

The homeless man shook his head sharply. "She didn't freak out at all. Me, I was gaping like a fish. But she just calmly stood there, and I think…I dunno, I think she gathered the smoke in a jar or something. And then she left as though it were nothin'."

Hm, that did sound strange. It did not, however, sound like Lucifer. Even if his last vessel had exploded, the narcissistic archangel would never take a new one from what most people considered the dregs of society. So they had been following the wrong lead after all and were back at square one. Wonderful.

"Thank you for your help," Castiel told the man sincerely.

He looked startled for a moment, as though he hadn't expected them to believe him, or expected to be let go.

Crowley canted his head almost thoughtfully. "You seem to be down on your luck. What would you say if I could offer you a way to turn things around?"

"Crowley," Castiel growled, shooting the demon a warning glower.

Crowley rolled his eyes and huffed. "What can I say? Old habits."

The homeless man's forehead creased. "Hey, that's what the old woman was saying to the guy."

Castiel frowned. "About old habits?"

"What? No, about making his wish come true."

"You mean the man was trying to offer the woman a deal to improve her circumstances," Crowley said.

He shook his head. "No, it was definitely her. I wasn't listening that closely, though I think the guy was buying into it. And then, well, I guess it didn't go well. Unless his wish had been to die."

Castiel exchanged a bemused look with Crowley. Someone had offered a deal to a demon? Could that be what had happened to the other victims they'd found? But who would bother collecting demon souls? Perhaps it was a hunter's ruse, and what this man had seen was just an exorcism. Except…the demons were definitely dead and not sent back to Hell, according to Crowley's sources. Maybe a hunter had figured out how to kill demons with a spell.

"Thank you," Castiel told the homeless man again, and he and Crowley headed back to the truck.

"I guess we can just stop here until we hear something new on Lucifer," Castiel said with a sigh. Being stuck in a motel room with Crowley was just as unpleasant as the car. He was beginning to wish he could just leave the King of Hell somewhere and go back to the bunker. But he didn't want to intrude, and they could find a new lead at any time. No, best to stay on the road and keep a lookout.

Crowley pulled up short in the street. "You're not going to keep looking into this?"

Castiel quirked a confused brow. "Why would we? Lucifer is obviously not involved."

Crowley shook his head incredulously. "Someone is harvesting demon souls."

"Your point being?"

"Fine," Crowley huffed. "I get that you don't care what happens to a few lowly demons. But soul deals are _my_ territory. So whoever is going about encroaching on my territory needs to be put in their place."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Don't you think that's less of a priority than _Lucifer_?"

"Lucifer is still at the bottom of the ocean," Crowley retorted. "And how do we know for certain this individual isn't also taking human souls? The only reason we know about the demons is we thought it was Lucifer."

Castiel gritted his teeth. Dammit, Crowley had a point with that. Until they knew exactly who this person was and whether they were only targeting demons, Castiel couldn't ignore the potential threat to humans. And since there was no sign of Lucifer, it would be better to at least be doing _something_ in the meantime…

"Fine," he bit out. "But how do you propose we go about finding this person?"

Crowley's mouth curved upward in a sly grin. "I rather think she'll come to us." With that, he turned to head around the side of the truck and climb in the passenger seat.

Castiel lifted his gaze to the sky. It was too bad there was no one up there to answer his prayer for patience, because he sure needed it.

* * *

"Um, sir, I don't know about this…"

Crowley arched his brows, daring the demon minion to question his command again. There had been a time when his subjects would do anything Crowley decreed. He could have ordered one to walk straight into a spike and impale himself and the cretin would have done it for fear of something worse as punishment if he didn't. Lucifer's brief coup had crumbled Crowley's authority and reputation. Though, if he were honest, things hadn't been very secure since his mother's meddling wiles, or during Abaddon's campaign…or when the Leviathan had steadily been taking over everything.

Well, thus were the pressures of ruling the underworld. Crowley needed to get back on top and prove that he was still king and to be feared. And the only way to accomplish that was to deal with that maggot Lucifer. As well as whatever pond-scum was poaching souls here.

"Myself and the angel will be nearby the entire time," Crowley said, tone dripping with condescension. "You have nothing to fear."

The demon did not seem reassured. Normally Crowley liked his underlings to quiver before him, but right now it was just annoying. They had a task to accomplish tonight, and the only way Crowley could see to draw this "old woman" out was to present her with fresh meat. So he planned to send one of his expendable lackeys into the streets in the hopes of catching her attention.

Crowley lowered his tone. "Now go."

The demon grimaced, but turned to step off the curb and skulk down one of the darkened alleys a few blocks from where the previous victim had been found.

"Using your own demons as bait," Castiel remarked from where he stood in the shadows behind Crowley.

He shot the angel a long-suffering look. "She obviously has a type. Now if you'll quit dawdling, we might catch her in the act." Crowley waved his arm impatiently in the direction his henchman had gone.

Castiel shook his head, but detached from the wall, and the two started trailing a good distance behind the lowly demon, keeping an eye out for anyone or anything that might be supernatural in nature.

The demon made sure to stick to isolated streets and abandoned sections of town, per Crowley's instructions. A stiff wind was wafting up from the coast, blowing trash across the sidewalks and rattling loose chain-link fences. The demon ducked down another alleyway, and Crowley and Castiel paused at the corner to wait for him to get a bit ahead again.

Except just when he was halfway down the back lane, a short figure stepped into the other side's opening. Crowley perked up. Finally, a bite.

"Hello there," a female voice with a deep timbre said.

The demon pulled up short, halfway between the two exits. "Uh, hi."

Crowley waited, watching through the slats of a rotted fence to be sure they'd caught the right fish before making his entrance. The stranger was indeed an older woman, with scraggly gray hair that fell in knotted curls around her shoulders. Her skin was hard and weathered too, and her clothes did indeed look rough and frayed.

She eyed the demon with no indication of fear. "You seem stressed," she said.

The demon fidgeted. "Oh, um…" He kept throwing glances over his shoulder, and Crowley inwardly sighed at the cowardly incompetence that was left among his ranks.

The old hag suddenly inhaled long and deeply. "Ahh," she breathed out. "I can smell the desperation. It has a sharp tang, you know, like sea brine." Her lips curved upward. "Delicious."

The demon took a nervous step backward, and she took one forward, eyes narrowing shrewdly.

"You're desperate to please your superior," she went on. "I can help with that, if you're willing to give me something in return."

Ah, there it was. Crowley stepped out from the shadows and casually strode into the alley. Castiel's footsteps echoed behind him.

"I'd say his superior is well-pleased," Crowley interrupted.

The woman's eyes narrowed on him. The demon minion whipped his gaze back and forth between them, and then threw his head back, belching a stream of black smoke into the night. The empty meatsuit fell to the ground with a thud.

Crowley canted an unimpressed look at it. Spineless worm. Oh well, at least he'd accomplished what he was supposed to. Crowley turned his attention to the old hag. Was she a witch? Crowley hoped not, as he was rather fed up with witches meddling in his affairs.

"I hear you've been a busy little bee," he said in lieu of a greeting.

She flicked a scrutinizing gaze between him and Castiel. "A demon and an angel walk into an alley. That's ridiculous enough on its own it doesn't even need a punchline."

"And a sea witch crawled up out of cesspool," Crowley rejoined. Now that they were closer, he could smell the sickly sweet scent of saltwater on her. She also had a hemp belt around her waist underneath her brown rags, from which hung various trinkets one of her ilk might bear, such as seashells, bones, and tiny glass jars filled with other knickknacks.

"What are you doing hunting demons?" Castiel asked.

She put on an affronted look. "I'm merely doing good deeds—granting wishes. To demons, humans, anyone I sense is desperate enough to trade something."

"You mean their souls," Castiel said flatly.

"Given the current climate, one needs all the power they can get."

Crowley scoffed. "You can't make soul deals and collect right away."

The sea witch shrugged. "That's the beauty of it: people are rarely specific enough in their wishes, and there's always an immediate loophole I can capitalize on." She smirked. "You know what they say: be careful what you wish for."

Crowley sputtered. "That's not the proper way to make a contract, you disgraceful hack," he spat, and jabbed a finger at her. "This stops now. You're encroaching on _my_ domain."

The hag drew her shoulders back, bristling. "And what does a single angel and demon plan to do to stop me?"

"I'm not just any demon," Crowley replied. "I'm the King of Hell. My word is law."

The sea witch remained silent for a prolonged moment, staring at him. Then her lips twitched, and she broke into a malicious grin. "Is that so?" she said, voice pitched low and menacingly.

Crowley produced his angel blade from the Void, prepared to make his _point_ clear. Yet before he could, the hag thrust a hand out toward him, fingers crooked like gnarled bones. Crowley went rigid as every muscle in his body seized. What the…

Castiel shot Crowley an alarmed look, then drew his own angel blade and moved forward. The hag grabbed a closed oyster shell from her belt and smashed it on the ground. Thick, cloying smoke spewed up, filling the entire alleyway with an opaque fog. Crowley heard Castiel coughing, but lost sight of the angel. And he still couldn't move. Something in his throat compressed, and he thought it might have been the smoke, but then it began to tear like a thin shroud.

Crowley gasped, and his legs buckled. His knees hit the asphalt with a jarring crack just as a tiny wisp of amber light no bigger than a bead was ripped from his mouth. The smoke began to clear, and Crowley spotted the sea witch, now several feet further away. She coaxed that teeny little spheroid into a small jar and corked it.

"Good luck maintaining that law now," she lobbed at Crowley before turning and disappearing into the night.

The last of the smoke thinned, revealing Castiel, who had his arm up to cover his face, his angel blade poised but unused. Crowley slowly got to his feet. He despised witches. He opened his mouth to say exactly that, only when he did, no sound came out.

He swallowed a few times and then tried again. Nothing. Crowley shot an incredulous and infuriated glare at the empty space the sea witch had been a moment earlier.

 _Bollocks_.

* * *

Castiel coughed into his elbow again, using his other hand to wave the tendrils of smoke away from his face. Great, the sea witch had escaped. He turned back toward Crowley, and frowned at the demon standing in the alleyway, opening and closing his jaw in exaggerated movements as though something might have been stuck in his throat. A frog perhaps? It had appeared as though the sea hag was employing some kind of magical attack before she'd smashed that smoke bomb to obscure visibility and prevent Castiel from intervening.

But Crowley wasn't making any choking sounds. He wasn't making any sounds at all, in fact. Castiel narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with you?"

Crowley heaved a beleaguered sigh and pointed to his mouth, then shook his head fervently.

Castiel stared at him blankly. "You lost your voice? How?" The smoke hadn't been that corrosive.

Crowley rolled his eyes and jabbed a finger toward where the sea witch had been, then made the motion of something coming up and out of his throat and moving that direction.

Castiel's brows rose sharply. "She stole your voice?"

Crowley spread his arms and nodded in what looked like exasperated confirmation.

Castiel couldn't keep a small smile from quirking his lips. Of all the ways that confrontation could have gone wrong, this one wasn't all that disastrous. One might even say it was a fortuitous turn of events.

Crowley's gaze narrowed and he skewered Castiel with a dark glower. He gestured harshly down the alley and made a repetitive sweeping motion with his arms. Castiel wasn't really all that eager to track down the sea witch again, though he had to admit that they couldn't just let her continue collecting souls, especially since she wasn't just targeting demons. But even if those were her only victims, anyone trying to shore up power from souls would become a threat later on. Better they deal with it now.

"Well," Castiel said. "Now that we know what she is, we can narrow down where her lair might be." Most likely on the beach or close to it. If it was further out, though, that would present some challenges, as Castiel didn't have the ability to fly into otherwise inaccessible places.

"Why don't you go search all the sea caves in the area," he suggested.

Crowley huffed and spread his arms indignantly.

"I can't do it," Castiel pointed out. "And if you want your voice back sooner rather than later, you should probably get going."

The demon's nostrils flared as he fumed silently. It was enough to make Castiel give a smug smirk again. It was rather nice not having to listen to Crowley gripe or deliver snide barbs in response. Castiel almost hoped there wasn't a way to get his voice back, or that they could kill the sea witch before recovering it. But that was petty and Castiel forced himself to push the fantasy aside.

"I'll call the Winchesters and see if the Men of Letters bunker has a spell for tracking a sea witch, or at the very least returning a stolen voice," he offered in conciliation.

Crowley did not look appeased, but with a departing scowl, he disappeared. Castiel started heading back to where he'd left his truck parked, pulling his cell phone out along the way and calling Dean's number.

The line clicked after the second ring. " _Hey, Cas._ "

"Hello, Dean," he replied.

" _You still living out an '80s buddy comedy with Crowley?_ "

"Unfortunately." And unfortunately, Castiel now knew what that was.

" _Any news on Lucifer?_ " Dean asked.

"No. Actually, we stumbled upon a case. A sea witch has been tricking people into giving up their souls. She's trying to shore up power."

There was a pause and then the background sounds changed in texture, suggesting he'd been put on speaker. " _Okay,_ " Dean continued. " _Sea witch collecting souls doesn't sound good. You need help?_ "

"Not with the hunt itself," Castiel assured him. "But if you know of any spells for locating a sea witch, that would be useful. Or, or spells to restore a lost voice."

" _Lost voice?_ " Dean repeated. " _What the hell do you need something like that for?_ "

"Crowley," Castiel sighed. "He angered the hag and she stole his voice to spite him."

There was another beat of silence on the other end of the line. " _She stole Crowley's voice?_ " Dean said incredulously, though not without a tenor of amusement. " _Oh, that is just too good._ "

Castiel's lips twitched. "Yes. I'm finding it rather…enjoyable."

" _I bet you are._ "

" _Hey, Cas,_ " Sam spoke up. " _I can't think of any spells like that, and I just checked under 'sea witch' in the catalog, which didn't have much. We could look into it further._ "

"If you have the time," Castiel said. "I know you're busy, and I'm sure Crowley and I can handle this."

" _It's not a problem, Cas,_ " Dean said, tone much more serious than it had been a moment ago. " _Just keep us informed. And hey, be careful. Someone capable of stealing the King of Hell's voice doesn't sound like something to underestimate._ "

"I will," Castiel promised.

" _Still wish we were there,_ " Dean went on. " _Just so I could see the look on Crowley's face._ "

"I will try to take a picture," Castiel said.

" _We'll let you know if we find anything,_ " Sam added.

Castiel thanked them again, and then hung up. He'd reached the truck, but simply turned around to lean against it and consider what their next step should be. If the hag had been collecting souls, that meant killing her wouldn't be enough; they'd have to free the souls she'd stolen, lest they be condemned to rot in her realm for eternity.

There had been a time Castiel, as an angel of the Lord, was formidable enough to make any monster cower in fear. Even Crowley had once possessed a certain measure of intimidation just by name alone. Now, however, the two were rather washed up. The sea witch had barely batted an eye when they'd confronted her the first time. Which did not bode well for a second.

Still, they had to try.

There was a shift and vibration on the air as the veil between this plane and the Void opened briefly, and Crowley appeared. The bottom of his slacks were damp and he reeked of seaweed.

"Did you find her?" Castiel asked.

He nodded.

Castiel straightened. Good, that was the first step. "Where?"

Crowley opened his mouth, only to snap it closed and huff in vexation.

Oh, right.

"Is it nearby?" Castiel asked.

Crowley nodded, and pointed south.

"Is it on the beach or only accessible through teleporting?"

The King of Hell leveled a dry glare at him, then held up two fingers. He pointed to the first and nodded, then tapped the second finger and shook his head. Well, that was good.

"How well warded is it?" Castiel asked. He assumed a sea witch would have some kind of magical wards set up, just for security.

Crowley lifted his gaze to the sky in clear exasperation.

Castiel winced. "Maybe you should write it down."

He started to turn to the door to search the truck's cab for a pen and paper, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder, and the next thing he knew, he was whipping through the Void. Castiel landed with a jolt on sand and almost lost his balance. A quick look around revealed he was standing on a beach near a rising cliff. Waves crashed against rocks at the base.

Castiel turned to glare at Crowley. The demon just gave him a simpering smirk in return, and pointed toward the bottom of the cliff. Though it was still dark, the moon glow reflecting off the water cast shadows over clefts and indentations of openings into sea caves.

Castiel drew his angel blade. "Try not to lose anything else while we're in there," he grumbled over his shoulder, and started forward. The only sound Crowley made in response was the scuffing of dress shoes through sand. Granules were getting in Castiel's shoes as well. Crowley couldn't have teleported them a little closer?

They approached the cave cautiously. Castiel kept his senses peeled for anything, though it all seemed quiet. He paused at the entrance, and then gestured for Crowley to enter first. The demon shot his eyebrows up and thrust his chin out for Castiel to go forward. Castiel pointed his blade at Crowley's chest and indicated the dark tunnel. The demon was the one who'd done the reconnaissance. Crowley finally rolled his eyes and strode forward. His footsteps were stealthy, but Castiel could feel the annoyance wafting off him in palpable waves. At least he wasn't complaining out loud. Though, Castiel had to admit the inconvenience of not being able to communicate when going into dangerous situations. He and Crowley were _not_ like Sam and Dean, able to formulate and execute a plan with mere looks.

An aqua-marine glow emanated up ahead, and Castiel tightened his grip on his angel blade. Ocean water lapped along the edges of the small path that wound its way into a cavern decked out as someone's living space. The sea witch's lair held a fire pit in the far corner, away from the water, with a large cauldron suspended over it. Two tables made of driftwood stood on either side, and there were rickety shelf units along the walls that contained a myriad of items—shells, jars of bones and other animal parts, crushed herbs—essentially everything a witch would need.

And then along the ceiling a huge fishing net was stretched from one end to the other, holding almost a dozen floating orbs, some black and wispy, some blue and shiny. The souls of demons and humans. They were all trapped within the net, writhing above the hag's workspace as she puttered about. She paused when Castiel and Crowley emerged.

"Come for more punishment, have you?" she said, cocking her head. There wasn't an ounce of fear in her bearing.

Castiel drew his shoulders back. "Release the human souls you took," he demanded.

She scoffed, flicking a glance up at her collection. "And why should I?"

"Because they're not yours to take." Castiel evaluated the ends of the net in his peripheral vision. All he needed to do was cut one side enough for the souls to spill out, and then they would fly away for a reaper to intercept.

Crowley elbowed him in the ribs and jerked his head meaningfully at the hag.

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Oh, and give Crowley back his voice."

The hag's lips curved upward in an unimpressed moue. "I might be persuaded to make a deal…though I think there's something you'd want to bargain for even more than one pathetic demon's grating voice."

Crowley's cheeks puffed with indignation and his lips moved soundlessly in what was no doubt a vitriolic retort.

Castiel narrowed his eyes as the sea witch took a sashaying step forward.

"You want a way to trap the Devil for good, don't you?" she purred.

Castiel started, and exchanged a bewildered look with Crowley.

"The ocean may be large, but I know what goes on in it," the hag continued. "Including where Lucifer himself is currently languishing, though you can be sure he won't stay put for long."

Castiel straightened. "Where is he?"

Her grin widened. "Yes, that is worth a deal, isn't it? Say for…your grace?"

"No," he growled.

"Oh come on," she pressed. "You stink of desperation. Recapturing the Devil isn't about doing what's good, what's right. It's about fixing a terrible, terrible mistake." Her voice dropped to a lower pitch with each barbed accusation. "You always make mistakes, don't you, angel? Is giving yourself to me really not worth the chance to fix things? And to ensure you don't screw up again in the future? I know that's what you fear."

Castiel's throat tightened and he clenched his jaw. Deals of desperation—how many had he made in the last decade? Enough to know better. And yet…Lucifer was currently the _worst_ threat out there. And it was Castiel's fault the Devil was free from his Cage. He didn't know another way to stop Lucifer, to protect the Winchesters…

Castiel jolted when Crowley suddenly kicked him, and he shot the demon a scathing glower. Crowley was glaring back at him, and gave a sharp warning shake of his head. Castiel furrowed his brow. Why would Crowley care whether Castiel took such a deal or not? Especially if his voice was thrown in with the package? But there was something in the King of Hell's eyes, not malice or menace, or scheming black-hearted intentions. Just…Crowley.

Castiel turned his attention back to the witch. "No."

Flipping his blade around in his grip, Castiel arched his arm back and flung it end over end through the air. It sliced through the netting, spilling out the souls like balloons, which then sped off through the tunnel to escape the cave.

The sea witch shrieked. Castiel squared his shoulders and channeled his grace. His eyes glowed blue with mounting power.

"Now, Crowley's voice," he intoned.

The hag hissed at him. "I'll keep that," she spat. "And you."

She whipped her arms up and around, and before Castiel could react, several strands of kelp came flying at him from multiple directions. The weeds snapped around his arms, torso, and legs, restricting his mobility. He tried to summon his strength to break them, but the sea witch clenched a fist and yanked, and Castiel was suddenly wrenched off his feet and tossed into the water.

The icy cold waves splashed around him, crashing in over his head and into his lungs as he was dragged down to the shallow bottom and held there. He thrashed, air bubbles escaping in a flurry from his mouth. Oxygen wasn't that precious, but Castiel could feel the hag's power infused in the elements of her domain, and he couldn't fight them.

More kelp slithered up and around his throat, squeezing so that the outflow of oxygen was stopped. It wrapped around his legs and hands, even his fingers. Castiel tried to struggle, but he was completely bound.

* * *

Crowley watched in dismay as Castiel was snagged by the kelp and dragged under the surface of the water. Bloody hell, really?

The hag turned back to face him, eyes alight with triumph. Crowley leveled a black look at her, and produced his angel blade from the Void. The bitch was going to pay.

Crowley lunged, brandishing his weapon for a killing strike, but the sea witch snatched a trident off a nearby table and blocked the blow. Crowley gritted his teeth as coral crusted iron grated against celestial alloy. He wrenched his blade free and swung again. She dodged easily, whipping around to slash at him from behind. Crowley staggered backward to avoid the sharpened prongs. They were equally matched, which irked the King of Hell to no end. Now was usually the time _he'd_ try to make a deal of some kind, convince his opponent they were better off working together. Except he didn't have a bloody voice to conduct negotiations with!

His shoe knocked against something metallic, and Crowley chanced a look down, spotting Castiel's angel blade on the ground. Why the angel had to go and put freeing those souls as a priority, Crowley couldn't fathom. Castiel couldn't have waited until _after_ they'd vanquished the wretched hag? Though, it was a rather satisfying act of defiance. Crowley wouldn't want to admit that he was concerned there for a minute about the angel taking the sea witch's deal. And not just because she was an atrocious businesswoman who didn't know how to legitimately uphold her end of a bargain, but Crowley had gotten used to having the spunky angel around, and it would take too long to house train another one. So they both needed to get out of this.

Crowley stepped back and gave the dropped angel blade a sharp kick that sent it skittering across the ground and into the water. He hoped the bloody angel would be able to extricate himself from that mess, as Crowley currently had his hands full with the hag.

She charged him again, and Crowley pivoted out of the way. This time he spun back around to strike while she was reorienting herself, but the witch was spry for an old hag. She twisted around and their blades crossed again with a clang. Crowley glowered at her through the trident's tines, and she sneered back at him.

A flicker of light drew his attention down for a split moment, and Crowley spotted a tiny jar attached to her belt of trinkets. Inside was nothing but a small bead of light. A few notches over was a seashell glowing green like that kelp. Hmm…

Crowley slid his blade down and torqued his wrist. The angel blade sliced through the hemp belt, sending all of its knickknacks plummeting to the ground. The seashell hit the rock and cracked, its light instantly dimming. The tiny jar smashed into pieces, and that little globule bobbed into the open air, now free. Crowley stood and waited as it floated up to him, and then he opened his mouth and inhaled deeply. Warmth blossomed in his throat, and Crowley pulled his lips back in a grin.

"Ah, much better," he said.

The sea witch let out an enraged bellow, spittle flying from her mouth as she threw herself at him. Crowley couldn't bring his weapon up in time, and he was knocked to the ground. The trident came stabbing down to his right, pinning his sword arm.

The hag leaned over and grabbed a knife from the table, her cheeks puffing red and nostrils flaring. "I'll kill you, worm!"

Crowley heard the sloshing of water even as he raised his other arm defensively. The witch suddenly jerked, head thrown back and mouth gaping open as the tip of a blade punched through her sternum. Then it was retracted, and her body dropped, revealing a sopping wet Castiel behind her, angel blade in hand.

Crowley stared dumbly for a moment. Well, so that had worked.

Castiel dropped his gaze to him, and without saying anything, grabbed the trident and wrenched it free. Crowley rolled into a sitting position, and then quickly pushed himself to his feet. He canted his head at the dead hag.

"Look at that," he said. "We make a great team."

Castiel looked like a drowned cat when he glowered in response. "I see you got your voice back," he grumbled.

"Yes. All's well that ends well. Shall we?" He clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder and shifted through the Void, teleporting them both back to the angel's truck. It was just a couple hours before dawn, still dark and cold, and Castiel was dripping.

"Be right back," Crowley said. He vanished for a quick moment to pop into a nearby motel room and steal one of the large towels. Then he zapped back in, hardly ten seconds having passed, and cheerily handed the towel over.

Castiel took it almost begrudgingly and began patting his face with it. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, shoulders sagging. "Can I borrow your phone? Sam and Dean are going to be worried."

Crowley dug out his cell. "I'll assure Mom and Dad that we didn't die."

Castiel opened his mouth as though to protest, but Crowley had already hit Dean's contact info and placed the phone to his ear.

The line clicked. " _Crowley?_ " Dean answered suspiciously.

"Squirrel," he greeted. "Just wanted to let you know that Feathers and I have finished our little jaunt and come out unscathed. Though Castiel is going to need a new cell phone. He wants to know if you can up his allowance."

Said angel leveled a vexed glower at him.

" _It's really a shame you got your voice back,_ " Dean grumbled.

"That hurts."

" _Put Cas on._ "

Crowley rolled his eyes and held his phone up.

"I'm fine, Dean," the angel said, having been able to hear the Winchester's side of the conversation already.

Crowley put the phone back to his ear. "See? Now don't wait up. We've got to get back to hunting down Lucifer."

" _Crowley—_ "

He hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket, then grinned at Castiel. "Together again."

Castiel's expression was pinched sourly, and he tossed the towel in the back of the truck bed. "Yay."


End file.
